


Once In A Blue Moon

by CescaLR



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deaged!Peter, Episode: s02e09 Party Guessed, F/M, Gen, Post-Episode AU: s02e09 Party Guessed, Season/Series 02, Sort-of, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: The floorboards were broken by something rising up from underneath them, and Lydia couldn't move.~~~"Don't worry." He smirked. "I invited myself."~~~





	Once In A Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by browsing tumblr, can't remember which post made me think of this, very sorry.

Once upon a very recent time, Lydia Martin had been Queen Bee of her high school. She knows she isn't anymore - the fact that  _Stiles Stilinski,_ of all people, had had to invite people Lydia had never met that  _he_ _had_ (Though, to be fair, Lydia doesn't spend a lot of time in gay clubs) is proof enough - and it, well it would sting if Lydia could feel much of anything right now.

As it stands, she's leaving her party - something Lydia thinks you should know is  _utterly and completely out of character -_ to go help this ghost that's walking around in her head.

At least, Lydia  _thinks_ he's a ghost. It's a teen - or maybe an adult, Lydia can't be certain since he's appeared to her as both. Perhaps he's the Alpha that had been running around murdering people not too long ago and had bitten her - but, truthfully, Lydia doesn't really remember much of that night if anything at all (besides from what happened prior to being bitten) and regardless, she hadn't really gotten a good look at his face before the man had rendered her unconscious. 

So, what Lydia's saying is that she's no fucking clue who this ghost is, and would really rather he leave her alone. If bringing him back to life is what it takes - then fine. She'll let her body carry her to that goal, she won't stop it because she wants this creep out of her head. 

Any means necessary. Wolfsbane poisoning is a bit cruel, granted - but it hadn't  _really_ been Lydia who did that  ~~and besides they kind of deserved it for trying to keep her so far in the dark that she's blinded by it.~~

... Anyway.

Lydia finds herself approaching Derek - someone Lydia could do with never talking to; it doesn't really help her 'crazy' image, talking to the guy that squats in his old burned down home and abandoned trains - with some more wolfsbane, this time in a powder format, and proceeds to blow it in his face.

Aw, look at that. He's confused. And now he's unconscious.

**Lovely. Be a dear and bring him home, would you?**

Certainly. Not that Lydia has much choice in the matter, of course, but it's nice to pretend she does at times. Stops her from  _really_ going crazy. 

Lydia drags Derek all the way to the preserve, all the way in the preserve, up onto the porch and into the living room. She discards him on the floor and removes a knife (that she'd put in there at some point... Lydia doesn't remember) for later use. 

Lydia sets up the ritual - the mirrors, prepares herself mentally, and then sits in wait. 

Now, it's only a matter of time.

* * *

**You'd best start moving, sweetheart.**

Lydia jolts - not awake, not exactly; she's still muddy, muddled, still not quite awake yet wholly conscious at the same time (somehow) - she jolts into standing and retrieving the knife, to saying the words and to slicing horizontally against Derek's forearm, knowing (hoping, really) that his extra healing will make his recovery certain.

**We don't want him dead, after all. He's necessary.**

_And you care._

The ghost doesn't reply to that - Lydia didn't expect it to. Really, she'd said that to shut him up more than anything. Though, once, he'd played that time they'd kissed over and over in her head when she'd asked the wrong questions, when she'd pushed too hard and done too little. 

Lydia hadn't done that again.

Lydia kneels - _of_   _course_ she's kneeling;  **kneel before the king -** and Derek's blood is pooling, spilling down through the cracks like the reverse of a wound, like whatever is down there is hungry and taking anything and everything it can to sustain itself. 

Lydia doesn't want to know what's down there, not really. But Lydia thinks its the ghost, and if she does this, he'll leave her alone, and she's  _tired._

_(So, so tired.)_

It only takes a moment - a moment from Lydia's perspective - Derek's arm has healed - and there's a clawed hand (not literally, mind you; with werewolves, its best to make that distinction) grabbing, pawing at the floorboards, a  _bang bang bang_ of pounding from the underside, a burst of splinters - Lydia gets hit in the cheek but aside from that is left unscathed, though the red drips drips drips down her face - and the man - no, maybe, he's yonger than she thought the Alpha was but he's the same age as Lydia's known him to be - the (unfortunately naked) male bursts up, heaves himself onto the landing from his shallow, upright grave. 

"I heard there was a party," He says, tone less shaky out loud than she'd have thought. Lydia stares up, stares and stares and stares as he stands, can't move and can't run and can't speak, because she's still connected - she's not free, not yet, there's still something left to be done - 

"Don't worry;" He smirks. "I invited myself."

* * *

Lydia gives Peter some clothes she'd bought without knowing it, stands there patiently as he dresses and starts paying rapt attention once he speaks. 

"I'd say I'm sorry for all of this if I meant it," Peter says smoothly, smooth like silk and poison and the drip drip drip of blood from Lydia's left cheek - "But I don't, so I won't." He finishes, turns around and inspects her. 

He's younger than Lydia remembered - only vaguely remembered, mind you - but the ghost she'd known had been simultaneously a man _and_ this teen, so perhaps it is something to do with that? Regardless, Lydia doesn't ask. She doesn't want him anywhere near her, so if she's quiet and helpful now, perhaps he'll leave her alone later.

There's also her lack of choice in the matter to take into account, of course. She'd have to help him even if she didn't want to. 

(And it's not like she wants too. More like she needs to, for her own sanity.)

"You changed the ritual," Peter says, and Lydia lifts her chin. She hadn't wanted to do exactly what he'd said - though she couldn't go against his wishes, Lydia had figured doing something better than what he'd wanted might get him to leave her the fuck alone a lot quicker than he otherwise would have. 

"I suppose I should thank you." The ghost boy says, and Lydia stares, just stares. "Though, since you likely won't remember, I doubt it will mean much if I do." Peter continues, talks as if she can't hear, as if he's the one talking to someone in a vegetative state - though he's not in one anymore, quite obviously, the role-reversal is something to take note of. 

At least, Lydia can't really take note of anything else. Reading this anomaly, this man out of time, out of place - Lydia doesn't know how. So she goes with what she knows, and what she knows is Peter. It's a little hard not to, when your mind has been as intertwined as theirs have been for the last - oh, god knows how long. Lydia... Lydia lost track of time a while ago. 

She's seventeen today. Happy freakin' birthday, Lydia Martin. Hope you have a good day. That's sarcasm, of course - Lydia's day has been the complete opposite of good the whole way through. 

"Happy Birthday, Lydia," Peter says. "Thank you for the resurrection."

And then he's gone, and Lydia's leaving the house, and he's not there when she's outside, or perhaps he is but he's decided Lydia can't see him, because Lydia can still feel that tie, that root of his soul stuck in the depths of her head, that  _dead, dead soul,_ and Lydia wants  _out._

Lydia goes home. Before anyone can come looking for Derek, and ask her too many questions Lydia cannot answer.

(She can't speak of Peter's resurrection. Lydia doesn't know how she knows - but she does.)

* * *

* * *

Derek is startled awake and aware by a high-pitched sound. 

"Peter has likely been resurrected," Deaton tells him, without any preamble. "I warn you that you'll be weak for a good while after what occurred tonight; I wouldn't go out and try to fight him alone or at all if I were you."

Derek looks up at the man, worried, and fights his way into a semi-seated position. "Don't worry," Deaton adds, "You're still an Alpha... but, as usual, not a particularly competent one."

Derek glowers at the vet. "Do you know where Peter is?" He demands instead of responding to the insult. "And why are you here, anyway? You never give any useful help normally."

"I do not know where Peter has gone off to," Deaton says, and while Derek privately wonders what magic is good for if you can't use it to locate people he doesn't say this out loud. "And..." Deaton hesitates. Derek is - surprised. Deaton is not exactly the kind to be unsure in his words, his beliefs - for him to hesitate is something unprecedented. At least, as far as Derek knows.

"Helping your family actually used to be a pretty important part of my life. Helping you was a promise I made to your mother." Deaton admits - finally gives away something about himself in return for all that he knows of Derek, Peter, all the others - and Derek doesn't know what to think. 

"Laura..." Derek hesitated. He never really liked talking about the people he's lost, his past, because to him the wound is still fresh. Especially with Peter taking every opportunity to re-open it. "Laura mentioned something about an - advisor, that the pack had?" Derek had never really paid attention to all of that. He had never been expected to, anyway - the Alpha spark would never have gone to him unless he was the only valid option left, as far as Derek knows, he'd always been expected to be a beta, and so he hadn't really had to know how packs worked from the top. Just how to follow orders and to do as instructed. It was - difficult, taking the mantle his mother and his sister had taken, and Derek... knows he's not been doing the best job, but he's doing what he can. 

(He knows he's been underhanded, he knows he's been misleading and has practically lied to get his betas - he knows he's done things he's not proud of, but Derek - he's not about to admit that, not even to himself.  _He's doing the best he can.)_

"And I have some advice," Deaton says, as much of an admission as anything, and Derek - Derek decides to listen. If it was good enough for his mother, after all, it is good enough for him.

"Peter may be back, but he’ll be physically weak. He’ll rely on his intelligence and cunning. When he comes after you, he will say that he’s the only one who can help stop Gerard." Deaton warns. "Derk, do  _not_ trust him."

Derek scowls, discards the advice as common sense. "I don't trust anyone." He replies, because he  _doesn't,_ and Deaton's countenance grows somehow grimmer. "And you wonder why you aren't very good at being the Alpha," Deaton says, a low blow and Derek scowls further, flattens out his expression afterward and glares - ignores the inherent contradiction. "Go find Scott," Deaton advises. "Now. I have a horrible feeling that all of this is just aiding Gerard in his endeavors."

Derek - Derek does take this advice, because truthfully he's not sure what he was going to do after this and it's nice to not have to make the tough decisions like who to go to and who to trust - so Derek nods, and Derek stands, brushes himself down.

"Be careful," Deaton warns, before glancing around warily at the remains of the resurrection ritual. 

Derek doesn't respond. After all; promising that would mean he'd have to do it. And Derek has never really been the best at careful... and letting someone else down - no matter how little Derek knows Deaton - is something Derek dearly wishes to avoid. 

Derek leaves his old home to go find Scott, and Deaton watches for a moment, before sighing, getting into his car, and driving off.

* * *

* * *

 

Peter stares from the shadows as Gerard drowns the Kanima's master and becomes the new one.

This might put a few... complications, into his plan. Perhaps it would be best to lie low until this whole business is over.

Yes, that sounds like a plan.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> based on ep 2x09, Party Guessed, and ep 2x10. Eleven and twelve will be next, I assume, if I continue this. 
> 
> Thoughts?


End file.
